


Less like a Joke and More like the Truth (But She'll Worry About That Later)

by knowyourincantations



Series: Femslash February 2019 [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don't copy to another site, F/F, Femslash February, Femslash February 2019, Foreplay, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 19:25:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17689403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowyourincantations/pseuds/knowyourincantations
Summary: Hermione is working from home when Pansy barges in to rant about the latest disaster to befall a Charity Ball she's trying to host. Like most of Pansy's rants, it's short lived but leaves her with plenty of steam to blow off.





	Less like a Joke and More like the Truth (But She'll Worry About That Later)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Femslash February 2019 Day 7, for the prompt 'Disaster'.

“It’s a disaster,” Pansy said dramatically as she pushed past Hermione the moment she opened the door to her flat. She then proceeded to walk over to her sofa and collapse dramatically onto it.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shut the door, muttering to herself, “By all means, do come in.”

“An unmitigated disaster!”

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten. “What’s a disaster?” she asked, knowing full well she would do better to ignore her dramatics.

Pansy scowled over at her as if she should know already. “Daphne’s mother has suddenly decided to renovate. The house is completely gutted.”

With a sigh, Hermione waited. Pansy stared at her.

“That ball!” she hissed. “We can’t very well have a charity ball in a room undergoing renovations!”

“Oh bloody hell,” Hermione muttered. “This is the third time you’ve changed venues. Just rent the function room in the Ministry and be done with it!”

Pansy stood abruptly. “The function room in the Ministry? Are you serious?”

That had been a tactical error, Hermione decided quickly. It was better to be around a Pansy that was pissed at someone else than to be the target of her ire.

With a hysterical laugh, Pansy gestured at her. “Why am I dating such a—”

“Oi, watch it,” Hermione interrupted with a sharp look.

Pansy glared back at her. Hermione almost wanted her to say it, just to see the look on her face when she kicked her out of her flat.

After a few tense moments, Pansy groaned and her posture sagged. Hermione mentally congratulated herself for warding off another fight about her lack of interest in social affairs. Her _commonness_.

“The dimensions of the function room are all wrong,” Pansy whined. “I’ll have to start over from scratch. It took months to hash out all the details for the Greengrass Estate. I’ll have to send out new invites. Change the decoration plans. Cancel all the orders because they just won’t work now and the number of attendees might change again. I have to start all over again!”

Hermione counted to ten. “That really is a tad unfair.”

“I really can’t stand Daphne’s mother. She should know better!” Pansy hissed, flopping back onto the sofa.

Hermione looked longingly at the report she’d been working on, spread out over the coffee table. She was well ahead of schedule, but still...she could have worked for a few more hours.

“I can’t hear another word about it,” Pansy decided. “I’m taking two days off before diving back in. I’ll still have enough time.”

Hermione glanced at the clock. They’d have to order in dinner, she still hadn’t gone shopping like she’d meant to.

“Probably for the best,” she murmured.

Pansy breathed heavily for a few moments and Hermione almost laughed. Pansy winding down from a huff was endlessly amusing even if the huff itself was bloody irritating.

Finally, still sprawled on the sofa, Pansy looked over at her. “Fancy a shag then?”

Hermione shook her head. “You are shameless. Coming in here in a huff and then using me as some sort of tool for stress relief. Really, I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Of course, she was already walking over to the sofa.

With a smug grin, Pansy sat up and pulled off her shirt. “Because I put up with all your little projects, and I only sulk a little when you turn into a hermit and don’t talk to anyone for weeks at a time?”

Hermione scowled as she straddled her lap. “That only happened once. And you know very well that—”

“That it was an important cause that demanded all your attention,” Pansy said, her tone lowering as she slid her hands up Hermione’s thighs and under the edge of the dress she was wearing. “I know. I only demanded two weeks of dates in compensation instead of a month like I wanted, remember? I was quite reasonable.”

Hermione reached down and pulled the dress off in one smooth movement. Pansy hummed appreciatively and leaned forward to kiss the swell of her breasts where they almost spilled out of her bra. Hermione looked down and ran her hands through Pansy’s hair. She really did need to buy new bras. She added it to her mental list of shopping. That would please Pansy, if she took her out shopping.

Pansy breathed in deeply. “You’ve been using that lotion I gave you,” she purred.

Hermione’s face flushed with heat. “It smells nice.”

Pansy kissed up from her chest to the side of her neck. “It makes your skin feel like silk.”

Hermione tilted her head back and hummed. She didn’t care what it did as long as Pansy kept doing that to her neck. Open kisses and gentle bites. She did so love to have her neck kissed.

“Indian for dinner?” Pansy asked, as she kissed up to her ear.

“Bit off topic,” Hermione breathed, tugging Pansy up by the hair so she could kiss her. Pansy artfully dodged her.

“Please, I know you love to plan. You’ll unwind better if you have a plan for dinner after. So, Indian?”

Hermione groaned and reached back to undo her bra. She hated how quickly Pansy had adapted to her. She was getting too predictable. She’d have to work on that. There was a place not far with the best curries, and now that she thought about she immediately craved it.

“Pizza,” she said, just to be contrary.

“Pizza it is,” Pansy laughed, tugging at Hermione’s hair until it fell loose from the messy bun she’d put it in. “Better,” she breathed.

Hermione’s face only burned hotter. Of all the things Pansy seemed to love about her, it defied belief that her untameable hair was one of them. Pansy’s smooth bob was far nicer in her opinion.

“I should kick you out,” Hermione muttered. “I was working.”

Pansy smoothed her hands up Hermione’s back after she tossed her bra to the side. “Then you’re overdue about three focus breaks,” she said with a smirk.

“Oh, shut up,” Hermione huffed.

Pansy just laughed softly before pressing her face between Hermione’s breasts and breathing deeply again. Hermione’s face burned from that ridiculous habit of hers, but the tickle of Pansy’s hair already had her nipples hardening.

After a moment, Pansy looked up and met her eye. “Maybe we should move to the bedroom before we get too carried away,” she said softly. “I intend to take my time with you.”

Hermione gripped her hair and pulled her head back. “You haven’t earned a spot in my bed yet,” she said softly but firmly.

“You are such a difficult woman to please,” Pansy replied, sliding her hands up to cup her breasts and flick her nipples with her thumbs.

With a soft sigh, Hermione got comfortable in her lap. Really, she didn’t give a damn about shagging in her bed, but Pansy reacted so delightfully to the illusion of something to overcome. Some barrier to take down piece by piece, night by night. She enjoyed the perceived challenge so much Hermione was loath to take it from her yet.

Pansy leaned forward the moment Hermione relaxed her grip on her hair. Hermione sighed and closed her eyes as wet heat encased one of her nipples. It lingered only a moment before a gentle scrape of teeth made her moan softly.

“Hermione Granger, I’m going to marry you one day,” Pansy breathed into the skin between her breasts. “Bad habits and bossiness and all.”

Like every other time she’d said it, Hermione laughed softly.

Like every other time she’d said it, it felt a less like a joke and little more like the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh, I really love the dynamic in this one.


End file.
